Peter Stuyvesant, the Last Dutch Governor of New Amsterdam

In the year 1665, the year which followed the capture of the city, war broke out between England and Holland. It was then generally expected that the States of Holland would make an attempt to recover the lost territory of New Netherland. It was rumored that De Ruyter, one of the Dutch Admirals, had actually set sail, with a large squadron, for New York. The rumor caused great commotion in the city. The national spirit of the Dutch residents was roused to intensity. De Ruyter had indeed sailed with the object of recapturing the province.

Colonel Nicholls was a man of great energy. He immediately commenced with all vigor, the work of repairing the crumbling fortifications, and of erecting new ones. But he found none to co-operate heartily with him, save the few English soldiers, whose bayonets held the conquered province in subjection. A meeting of all the Dutch inhabitants was called to ascertain the tone of public sentiment, and to endeavor to inspire the community with some enthusiasm for the defence.

But no enthusiasm was elicited. The Dutch were not at all unwilling that their countrymen should come back and reclaim their own. Even to defend themselves from the humiliation of conquest, by their English assailants, they had not been willing to submit to a bombardment. Much less were they now willing to subject themselves to the horrors of war, when the flag of Holland was approaching for their deliverance. They did not venture however, openly to oppose the ruler whom the fortunes of war had set over them, or to express sympathy for the success of the approaching fleet, which might be pronounced treason, and might expose them to severe punishment.

They contented themselves with manifesting entire indifference, or in offering sundry excuses. They very sensibly assumed the ground that they were a feeble defenceless colony, far away in the wilderness, entirely unable to cope with the forces which the great maritime powers of England or Holland might send against them. When an English fleet opened the portholes of its broadsides upon their little village, they could do nothing but surrender. Should a fleet from Holland now anchor in their waters they must let events take their natural course.

Colonel Nicholls, as governor, had gifts of honor and opulence in his hands. As was to have been expected, there were a few Dutch citizens who were eager to gratify the governor by co-operating with him in all his plans. This number, however, was small. The great mass of the citizens assumed an air of indifference, while, in heart, they longed for the appearance of the Dutch fleet in such strength as to render resistance impossible.

But either the storms of the ocean, or some other engagements, arrested the progress of the squadron, until after the rupture between England and Holland was temporarily healed. Colonel Nicholls remained in command at New York about four years. His administration was as popular as could reasonably have been expected under the circumstances. He gradually relaxed the severity of his rule, and wisely endeavored to promote the prosperity of the colony. The conquest had retarded the tide of emigration from Holland, and had given a new impulse to that from England. The Dutch gradually became reconciled to his rule. They enjoyed all the rights and immunities which were conferred upon any of the subjects of England in her American colonies. Out of respect to the governor they organized two militia companies, the officers of which were from the most distinguished of the Dutch citizens, and they received their commissions from him.

In August of 1668, Colonel Nicholls, at his own request, was recalled, and he returned to England. The Dutch did not love him, for they never could forget the circumstances under which he had conquered their province. But he had won their respect. As he embarked for the shores of England the great body of the citizens complimented him by a respectful leave-taking.

Colonel Nicholls was succeeded in the government of the province, by Colonel Francis Lovelace. He was an English officer of respectable abilities, and of worthy character. Under his sway, New York for five years, until 1673, enjoyed prosperity and peace. New agitations then took place.

The peace, of which we have spoken, between England and Holland, was of but transient duration. In 1672 war was again declared by England. The conflict which ensued was mainly upon the ocean. New York had so grown since its conquest by the English, and could so easily be reinforced by almost any number of men from populous New England, that the Dutch did not think that there was any chance of their then being able to regain the colony. They, however, fitted out a fleet of five ships, to cruise along the coast of North America, destroy the English, and inflict such injury upon any and all of the English colonies as might be in their power.

Governor Lovelace had no idea that any Dutch ships would venture through the Narrows. He made no special effort to strengthen the defences of New York. Early in February he went to Westchester county, to visit at the residence of his friend Mr. Pell. This was quite a journey in those days. The command of the fort was entrusted, during his absence to Captain John Manning.

A vessel entered the port, bringing the intelligence that a Dutch fleet had been seen off the coast of Virginia, sailing in the direction of New York. This created great commotion. A dispatch was sent, in the utmost haste, to the governor, summoning his return. He promptly mustered, for the defence, all the forces he could raise in the city and neighboring counties, and soon five hundred armed men were parading the streets of New York.

It proved a false dream. No enemy appeared. The troops were disbanded. They returned to their homes. The community was lulled into a very false sense of security. In July, the governor again was absent, on a visit to Connecticut. On the 29th of July the Dutch fleet appeared at Sandy Hook, and, learning from some of the inhabitants of Long Island, whose sympathies were still cordially with the fatherland, that the city was entirely defenceless and could easily be taken, ventured to try the experiment. They had not approached the bay with any such design. They had supposed their force entirely inadequate for so important a capture. The fleet quietly sailed up the bay and, as the English fleet had done but a few years before, anchored opposite the Battery, and turned their broadsides towards the city.

Colonel Manning sent a hurried despatch to the governor, who could by no possibility return for several days, and fluttered about in the attempt to beat up recruits. But no recruits were forthcoming. The sight of the flag of Holland, again triumphantly floating in the harbor, was joyful to many eyes.

The great majority of the people, in the city and in the country, were of Dutch descent. Consequently the recruiting parties which were raised, were in no mood to peril their lives in defence of the flag of England. Indeed it is said that one party of the recruits marched to the Battery and deliberately spiked several of the guns, opposite the City-hall.

It was a most singular revolution of the wheel of fortune. Captain Manning had but fifty soldiers within the fort. None of these were willing to fight. One-half of them were such raw recruits that captain Manning said that they had never put their heads over the ramparts. A few broadsides from the Dutch fleet would dismount every gun in the fort, and put to flight all the defenders who should survive the volley. This was alike obvious to the assailants and the assailed.

CHAPTER XV.

THE FINAL SURRENDER

The Summons.—The Bombardment.—Disembarkation of the Land Force.—Indecision of Captain Manning.—The Surrender.—Short Administration of the Dutch.—Social Customs.—The Tea Party.—Testimony of Travellers.—Visit to Long Island.—Fruitfulness of the Country.—Exploration of Manhattan Island.

The Dutch ships, having anchored and prepared themselves for the immediate opening of the bombardment, a boat was sent on shore with a flag of truce, to demand the surrender of the city. At the same time a boat was sent by Colonel Manning, from the fort to the ships. The boats passed each other without any interchange of words. Colonel Manning's boat bore simply the message to the Dutch Admirals, "Why do you come in such a hostile manner to disturb his Majesty's subjects in this place?" As England and Holland were then engaged in open war, one would hardly think that such an inquiry was then called for. When Colonel Nicholls came to New Amsterdam with his English fleet, the two nations were in friendly alliance. Such a question then would have been very appropriate.

The boat from the Dutch fleet bore a flag of truce at its stern, and was accompanied by a trumpeter, who asked for the English officer in command and presented the following message to Colonel Manning:

"The force of war, now lying in your sight, is sent by the High and Mighty States-General and his serene Highness the Prince of Orange, for the purpose of destroying their enemies. We have sent you therefore, this letter, together with our trumpeter, to the end that, upon the sight hereof, you surrender unto us the fort called James, promising good quarter; or by your refusal we shall be obliged to proceed, both by land and water, in such manner as we shall find to be most advantageous for the High and Mighty States."

Captain Manning returned an answer simply acknowledging the receipt of the message, and informing the Dutch Admirals that he had already dispatched officers to communicate with him. He promised upon the return of those messengers to give a definite reply to his summons.

The Dutch Admirals, Benckes and Evertson, were not disposed to waste any time in parleying. They probably remembered the circumstances under which the province of New Netherland had been wrested from them by its present possessors, and they rejoiced that the hour of retribution had thus unexpectedly come.

They therefore sent back word that their batteries were loaded and shotted and ready to open fire; that one half hour and one half hour only, would be granted for deliberation; that immediately upon the arrival of the boat at the fort the half hour glass would be turned up; and that if, when its last sands fell, the white flag of surrender were not raised upon the fort, the bombardment would be commenced.

The last sands fell and no white flag appeared. Instantly the thunder of a cannon echoed over the bay, and a storm of iron hail came crashing upon the frail fort, killing and wounding a number of men. Volley after volley succeeded without any intermission. Captain Manning made no attempt to return the fire. He and his powerless garrison hurried to places of safety, leaving the ramparts to be ploughed up and the barracks to be battered down without any resistance.

While this cannonade was going on, the Dutch Admirals manned their boats with a land force of six hundred men, and they were disembarked upon the shore of the island without encountering any foe. The little band of English soldiers was powerless, and the Dutch inhabitants were much more disposed to welcome their countrymen as deliverers than to oppose them as enemies. These Dutch troops were armed with hand grenades and such other weapons as were deemed necessary to take the place by storm. Rapidly they marched through the fields to the Common, now called the Park. It was, as we have mentioned, nearly a mile north from the fort.

Here they formed in column to march upon the town, under their leader, Captain Colve. The English commander, Captain Manning, sent three of his subordinate officers, without any definite message, to Captain Colve, to talk over the question of a capitulation. It would seem that Captain Manning was quite incompetent for the post he occupied. He was bewildered and knew not what to do. As his envoys had no proposals to make, two of them were detained and held under the Dutch standard, while the third, Captain Carr, was sent back to inform the English commander that if in one quarter of an hour the place were not surrendered, it would be taken by storm. In the meantime the troops were put upon the march.

Captain Carr, aware of the indecision of Captain Manning and of the personal peril he, as an Englishman, would encounter, with six hundred Dutch soldiers sweeping the streets, burning with the desire to avenge past wrongs, did not venture back into the town with his report, but fled into the interior of the island. The troops pressed on to the head of Broadway, where a trumpeter was sent forward to receive the answer to the summons which it was supposed had been made. He speedily returned, saying that the commander of the fort had, as yet, obtained no answer from the commissioners he had sent to receive from the Dutch commander his propositions.

Captain Colve supposed that he was trifled with. Indignantly he exclaimed "They are not to play the fool with us in this way, forward march." With the beat of drums and trumpet peals and waving banners his solid columns marched down the Broadway road to the little cluster of about three hundred houses, at the extreme southern point of the island. An army of six hundred men at that time and place presented a very imposing and terrible military array. In front of his troops the two commissioners who had been detained, were marched under guard.

As they approached the fort, Captain Manning sent another flag of truce to the Dutch commander, with the statement that he was ready to surrender the fort with all its arms and ammunition, if the officers and soldiers were permitted to march out with their private property and to the music of their band. These terms were acceded to. The English troops, with no triumphal strains, vacated the fort. The Dutch banners soon waved from the ramparts, cheered by the acclaim of the conquerors.

Captain Manning was, in his turn, as severely censured by the people of the English colonies in America, and by the home government, as Governor Stuyvesant had been on the day of his misfortune. English pride was grievously mortified, that the commandant of an English fort should allow himself to be fired upon for hours without returning a shot.

The unfortunate captain was subsequently tried by court-martial for cowardice and treachery. He was condemned. His sword was broken over his head and he was declared incompetent forever to hold any station of trust or authority under the government. Governor Lovelace was condemned for neglect of duty. He received a severe reprimand, and all his property was confiscated to the Duke of York.

The victorious Dutch commanders appointed Captain Colve as governor of recaptured New Netherland. With great energy he commenced his rule. The name of New York was changed to New Orange, and fort James became fort Hendrick. Work was immediately commenced upon the fortifications, and large sums of money were expended upon them, so that within two months they were deemed so strong that it was thought that no English fleet would dare to venture within range of their guns. The whole city assumed the aspect of a military post. Nearly every citizen was trained to arms. The Common, now the Park, was the parade ground where the troops were daily drilled. It was very firmly resolved that the city should not again surrender without the firing of a gun.

The municipal institutions were all re-organized to conform to those of the fatherland. This second administration of the Dutch was of but short duration. On the 9th of January, 1674, but about three months after the re-capture of the city, a treaty of peace was signed between England and Holland. The sixth article of this treaty read as follows,

"Whatsoever countries, islands, ports, towns, castles or forts have been taken on both sides, since the time that the late unhappy war broke out, either in Europe or elsewhere, shall be restored to the former lord or proprietor in the same condition they shall be in when peace itself shall be proclaimed."

Several months however transpired before the actual re-surrender of the city to the English. On the 10th of November 1674, a little more than one year after the capture of the city by the Dutch, this change took place. Mr. David V. Valentine writes:

"This event was not distasteful to the great body of the citizens, whose national sentiment had, in a measure, given way before the obvious advantages to their individual interests of having a settled authority established over them, with the additional privilege of English institutions which were then considered of a liberal tendency."

In conclusion, we have but a few words to say respecting the manners and customs in the thriving little village of New York, in these primitive days. People were then, to say the least, as happy as they are now. Food was abundant, and New York was far-famed for its cordial hospitality. Days of recreation were more abundant than now. The principal social festivals were "quilting," "apple paring" and "husking." Birthdays, christenings, and marriage anniversaries were also celebrated with much festivity. Upon most of these occasions there was abundant feasting. Dancing was the favorite amusement, with which the evening was almost invariably terminated. In this busy community the repose of the night was necessary to prepare for the labors of the ensuing day. The ringing of the nine o'clock bell was the signal for all to retire.

A mild form of negro slavery existed in those days. The slaves danced to the music of their rude instruments in the markets. The young men and maidens often met on the Bowling green and danced around the May pole. Turkey shooting was a favorite amusement, which usually took place on the Common. New Year's Day was devoted to the interchange of visits. Every door was thrown open, and all guests were welcome, friends as well as strangers, as at a Presidential levee. This custom of olden time has passed down to us from our worthy Dutch predecessors. Dinner parties were unknown. But tea-parties, with the ladies, were very common.

"To take tea out," writes Mr. William L. Stone, in his interesting History of New York,

"was a Dutch institution, and one of great importance. The matrons, arrayed in their best petticoats and linsey jackets, home-spun by their own wheels, would proceed on the intended afternoon visit. They wore capacious pockets, with scissors, pin-cushion and keys hanging from their girdle, outside of their dress; and reaching the neighbor's house the visitors industriously used knitting needles and tongues at the same time. The village gossip was talked over; neighbors' affairs settled, and the stockings finished by tea-time, when the important meal appeared on the table, precisely at six o'clock.

"This was always the occasion for the display of the family plate, with the Lilliputian cups, of rare old family china, out of which the guests sipped the fragrant herb. A large lump of loaf sugar invariably accompanied each cup, on a little plate, and the delightful beverage was sweetened by an occasional nibble, amid the more solid articles of waffles and Dutch doughnuts. The pleasant visit finished, the visitors donning cloaks and hoods, as bonnets were unknown, proceeded homeward in time for milking and other necessary household duties.

"The kitchen fire-places were of immense size large enough to roast a whole sheep. The hooks and trammels sustained large iron pots and kettles. In the spacious chimney-corners the children and negroes gathered, telling stories and cracking nuts by the blazing pine-knots, while the industrious vrows turned the merry spinning-wheel, and their lords, the worthy burghers, mayhap just returned from an Indian scrimmage, quietly smoked their long pipes, as they sat watching the wreaths curling above their heads. At length the clock with its brazen tongue having proclaimed the hour of nine, family prayers were said, and all retired, to rise with the dawn."

In the summer of 1679, but five years after the final accession of New Netherland by the English, two gentlemen from Holland, as the committee of a religious sect, visited the Hudson river, to report respecting the condition of the country, and to select a suitable place for the establishment of a colony. They kept a minute journal of their daily adventures. From their narrative one can obtain a very vivid picture of New York life two hundred years ago.

On Saturday, the 23d day of September, they landed at New York, and found it a very strange place. A fellow passenger, whose name was Gerritt, and who was on his return from Europe, resided in New York. He took the travellers to the house of one of his friends, where they were regaled with very luscious peaches, and apples far better than any they had seen in Holland. They took a walk out into the fields and were surprised to see how profusely the orchards wore laden with fruit. They took up lodgings with the father-in-law of their fellow-traveller, and in the evening were regaled with rich milk. The next day was Sunday.

"We walked awhile," they write,

"in the pure mountain air, along the margin of the clear running water of the sea, which is driven up this river at every tide. We went to church and found truly there a wild worldly people. I say wild, not only because the people are wild, as they call it in Europe, but because most all the people who go there, partake somewhat of the nature of the country; that is peculiar to the land where they live."

The preacher did not please them. "He used such strange gestures and language," writes one of them, "that I think I never in my life heard anything more miserable. As it is not strange in these countries, to have men as ministers, who drink, we could imagine nothing else than that he had been drinking a little this morning. His text was Come unto me all ye, etc.; but he was so rough that the roughest and most godless of our sailors were astonished.

"The church being in the fort, we had an opportunity to look through the latter, as we had come too early for preaching. The fort is built upon the point formed by the two rivers, namely the East river, which is the water running between the Manhattans and Long Island, and the North river, which runs straight up to fort Orange. In front of the fort there is a small island called Nut Island. Around the point of this vessels must sail in going out or in, whereby they are compelled to pass close by the point of the fort, where they can be flanked by several of the batteries. It has only one gate and that is on the land side, opening upon a broad lane or street, called the Broadway."

They went to church again in the afternoon. "After preaching," they write,

"the good old people with whom we lodged, who, indeed if they were not the best on all the Manhattan, were at least among the best, especially the wife, begged we would go with their son Gerrit, to one of their daughters who lived in a delightful place and kept a tavern, where we would be able to taste the beer of New Netherland. So we went, for the purpose of seeing what was to be seen. But when we arrived there we were much deceived. On account of its being, to some extent, a pleasant spot, it was resorted to on Sundays by all sorts of revellers and was a low pothouse. It being repugnant to our feelings to be there, we walked into the orchard, to seek pleasure in contemplating the innocent objects of nature. A great storm of rain coming up in the evening, we retraced our steps in the dark, exploring our way through a salt meadow, and over water upon the trunk of a tree."

On Thursday the 26th, our two travellers, at two o'clock in the afternoon, crossed East river to visit Long Island. The fare in the ferry-boat, which was rowed across, was three stivers, less than half a cent of our money, for each person. They climbed the hill and walked along through an open road and a little woods to "the first village, called Breukelen, which has a small and ugly little church in the middle of the road." The island was then mostly inhabited by Indians. There were several flourishing farms in the vicinity of Brooklyn, which they visited and where they were bountifully regaled with milk, cider, fruit, tobacco and "first and most of all, miserable rum, brought from Barbadoes, and which is called by the Dutch kill devil."

The peach orchards were breaking down beneath the burden of luscious fruit. They often could not step without trampling upon the peaches, and yet the trees were full as they could bear. Though the swine were fattened upon them, still large numbers perished upon the ground. In the evening they went on to a place called Gouanes, where they were very hospitably entertained. It was a chill evening, and they found a brilliant fire of hickory wood crackling upon the hearth.